


Only Crows and Reflected Sunlight

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: Lies, Misdirection, and Terrible Truth [5]
Category: Mythology - Fandom, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: GFY, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 16:38:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is quiet for a long moment, before looking between them a moment. "He will not like that I have any sort of peace, anymore than he listened to me before."</p>
<p>"Fathers do not listen to children they cannot admit have grown beyond what they wanted them to be." Anat shrugs, her gaze fixed on the fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Crows and Reflected Sunlight

A crow is watching him from above an arch framed by cypress and bridged with twisted vines he could not name. It croaks once, as if in command, before flying from its perch through the arch. Clear message to follow, and he unfolds himself from the quiet corner he's taken to spending hours at a time in, brushing bits of moss and bark free of his hair and clothing. Even here, he cannot let himself simply be, not for long. He is too much a prince, for all his fall, to do such a thing.

The center of the maze is a wide space open to the sky, with benches of warm wood carved in scenes that seem to melt from battle to bedroom and back again. Centered on a fire-pit laid but unlit, sweet grass softening the earth about it, where both his allies sat, leaving a third space open for him to close the circle.

They do not ask anything, save for him to light the fire, content to remain silent as the golden afternoon sun fades into the darkness of night, leaving them with only the flames to light the center of a twisted bower. Quiet that even the crows don't break, though several perch on one bench. One of three, spaced about the fire as they are.

"All-Father seeks for you. The gaze of his gatekeeper has lingered here, though he cannot see." The Morrigan watches him for a moment before she smiles. "He sees only crows and reflected sunlight."

"I know." Loki is quiet for a long moment, before looking between them a moment. "He will not like that I have any sort of peace, anymore than he listened to me before."

"Fathers do not listen to children they cannot admit have grown beyond what they wanted them to be." Anat shrugs, her gaze fixed on the fire. "The mortals, though, might have."

"They still believe me to be the greater threat." Loki is certain of that, though he is only the one who brought the threat to their attention. It was a masterful manipulation, though it necessarily made him more enemies than it earned him friends. He isn't certain it matters, if it means that Midgard and Asgard are ready for the horrors - more than just the Chitauri - that he saw in the void.

"They do not understand, but that does not mean they did not listen." The Morrigan shifts, leaning against the bench behind her with feet stretched to the fire. "They have time to learn understanding."

"Do they?" Loki isn't as certain as she, but he hopes she is right. It makes his goals easier to reach if he doesn't have to fight nearly as much stubborn foolishness on the part of the mortals. No less manipulation, but the manipulations will be - he hopes - easier to accomplish, with less pain on his part.

"If they do not learn on their own, you do not have to work alone." Anat gives him a look that reminds him he could have asked her help - their help - when first he managed to leave Thanos and the Chitauri. He hadn't wanted to put them in danger, then, and so hadn't visited his allies, rather depending on himself and his manipulations to achieve what he desired.

Loki inclines his head in acknowledgement of the unspoken scold and the offer alike. He settles back against the bench behind him, the wood shifting slightly to accommodate him, the magic giving it enough life for that. He stares into the fire for a long moment before he begins to speak, his cadence that of a skald telling a tale, distancing himself from it so he could more easily tell the story. Let them make of it what they would, and then they would plan.


End file.
